This Love Of Mine
by LizLo
Summary: My continuation of the episode 5 of season 3, Canary's Song. Gillian drunk,it starts where the camera stopped... CALLIAN. Rated T so far but might change to M later on...
1. It Goes On and On

_So… it's my continuation of the episode 5 of season 3, Canary's Song… they were about to kiss and we didn't see anything, yeah we can cry one more time, I decided to do my continuation, like that I won't kill myself… I don't know yet if I'll keep writing or it will just be an OS, that's your call. So here we go…_

_Enjoy!_

_Disclaimers: nothing's mine, just the storyline after the first dialogue…_

_And I'd like to thank anamiii because she did an awesome job as a beta-reader and Katheryn Mae for her opinion and all... :)_

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**It Goes On and On**

" I can't wait until tomorrow…" she said, with a steady, blurry look, her body swinging from right to left, her shoulders down.

He smirked and asked, "why? What's tomorrow?"

It was her time to smirk and she answered, in a mellifluous voice, showing a hint of lassitude, "I get better-looking every day…"

His lips loosened up to smile at her comment. He could still smell the alcohol on her lips. Slowly, he came closer again, invading her space, to breathe in her scent on her neck. With his hands, he traced the line of her arms, feeling her skin under his touch, he lingered a moment to appreciate the sweet sensation. He gently caressed down her skin, reaching the palm of her hands. He then felt the string of her high heels between her fingers; he forced her to open her hands to let the shoes fall on the floor.

The noise of the pumps on the floor made her jump a bit but quickly, she felt a strong yet gentle hand holding hers, and another hand guiding her back, bringing her closer to his hot body. Suddenly, he inhaled her perfume deeply which made her shiver and she lightly bent her head above Cal's.

A slight moan escaped from Gillian's lips which made Cal come down to earth. He looked up and started moving, sensually at the rhythm of the music, and guiding Gillian with his hands. She had closed her eyes and she didn't want to open them, afraid of waking up from that dream.

Cal's voice stopped her reverie a bit, "this is a great night, dontcha think?". She kept her eyes closed. He dropped her hand on his chest to be able to take away a lock of hair which had got lost and place it behind her ear. "I've never noticed before just how bloody fantastically beautiful your eyes are". He smiled, waiting for her reaction which didn't take long.

She looked up to the sky, her head falling back and laughed, "this, mister Lightman, is so cliché!". She sighed and laughed once more, "what color are my eyes?". Her head regained its normal position and he could see that she was trying to keep a serious face.

He got closer to her ear, his lips brushing against it and answered with a deep voice, "red". She opened her mouth but when she felt his moist lips against her earlobe, no sound came out of it.

"Then orange", he kissed her jaw, "yellow", the top of her nose, "green", her right eyelid, "blue", her left eyelid, "indigo", her forehead, "purple", her left temple, "like", her cheek, "a", the corner of her mouth, "rain", the other corner, "bow", her chin, "in the sky". He held her tight, she rested her cheek on his torso and he posed his chin on top of her head.

"You're to _tender _tonight…" she caressed his chest, "I think it's remorse…", she hauled his vest, "or gratitude…". She breathed, shrugged, "but I have to admit that it gave me a thrill, and butterflies in the belly, you know…". Her hand went to his scruff and with her index finger she played with his hair.

He stopped dancing when she said butterfly. Butterfly? That sounded like a teenagers' conversation… Him, he would have said that he felt some tingling instead, around his lower abdomen. But he kept himself from saying so, it wasn't a good idea, he didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Why did you stop?... it was so good…" she said, looking up.

He started sniffing, "too much alcohol, Gilly, definitely…".

She looked at him, raised an eyebrow, a suspicious look on her face, "Gilly? What's happening to you tonight, huh?", her chin fall on Cal's chest, her head one more time falling back.

"Well, the fact is I can't resist, ya know, can't resist the fact you get better looking every day…" he saw her cheeks turning into a cute shade of pink. She was irresistible, but did she know that? Was she aware of that?

Even if she was drunk, Gillian still felt embarrassed by the situation. They had been so distant those last days and now, awkwardly, they were so close from each other that she could smell his scent, breathe the same air, and share the same oxygen than him.

He broke the silence, "butterflies, huh?". His voice was light and he sounded kinda amused.

She tore herself apart from his embrace and turned around to go and lean on the low wall to admire the sky.

"Yes, butterflies…" she inhaled the fresh air, "you know, those little bugs, which fly…". Suddenly, she looked down to the ground, "they fly and they're colorful. When I was a kid I always wanted to keep them, like a domestic animal. But they would always die because you see; I put them in a jar, covered up with a shit of paper and made some gaps, to let them breathe. But it wasn't enough. They didn't even get through the night! but I didn't give up; I really wished I could have kept them, the butterflies…".

He didn't know how to read her. He didn't know if that was an image, or irony, or a simple memory or an innuendo. He thought too much, sometimes. Sometimes he could see things he didn't want to. But with her, he didn't have a choice, he didn't know on which foot to dance, and above all, he was never sure he was taking her the right way.

So he decided to come closer. He surrounded her with his arms, setting his hands on her belly and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"We could keep those butterflies alive, dontcha think, love?"

She looked up, tilted her head to the left to have a good view of the expression on Cal's face. Her vision was blurry, but he seemed sincere, to her and… she could see a hint of hesitation and embarrassment. Embarrassment? She started laughing.

He grunted out, pretending to be irritated. "You're laughing at me, again? I can't believe that!"

She turned over in his arms, laughing harder. She reached out for the bottle of whisky, almost letting it fall off the roof and pressed it against Cal's lips. Giving little pressure until he opened his mouth and drank the alcohol.

He gave a long moan, his face turning into a wince then she did it again. And he winced, again. She dropped the bottle on the low wall and nestled her face against his chest and took him by his collar. He didn't know that those hysterical laughs were her reaction to the butterflies, then?

After some muffled laughs, she tried to regain her serious and mumbled some incomprehensible stuffs.

He could help but laugh, too, "what?" he asked.

She gazed at him intensely, her gaze going from his lips to his eyes, from his cheeks to his jaw. With her right hand she retraced the outline of his eyelids, then traced the line of his nose and then caressed his lips with her thumb. She went to his cheekbone then passed her index finger on the hair making their way in front of his ear to join along his jaw line. She finally dropped back her hand on his cheek. With her fingers she caressed his skin.

"It's late, I need to go home", she escaped from under his arms and started walking to the door, changing feet, losing her balance and letting a little cry of surprise coming out of her mouth when she abruptly reached the door.

He had been so surprised that he almost didn't realize what was happening. If Gillian hadn't screamed, he would have stayed there, frozen.

"Oi!" he turned around quickly to join her. He picked up her high heels, on his way. When he reached her sides, he caught her arm to stop her. "What's happening?"

He really couldn't understand that sudden change of behavior. They were so distant, suddenly.

"I… I dunno… I wanna go home, Cal", she tried to get out of his grip but she lost her balance and fell against him, "ugh… you're like a magnet…". She was supposed to sound annoyed but he could see the beginning of a smile forming on her lips.

He wrapped her in his arms before she could leave and held her, tight. He breathed in the scent of her hair and inhaled deeply, "I'll drive you home". He saw she was about to protest and added, "your drunk".

She stared at him, squinted, as if she was trying to see him, clearer, and then pointed her index finger on his torso, "you too, _love_". She insisted on the last word, like to imitate him. She raised an eyebrow, proudly, put both of her hands against him, pushing him away softly and mumbled, "your smell drives me insane…".

This time, he understood what she said but decided not to comment.

They stayed there, face to face, her head down, him trying desperately to catch her gaze, feeling a little silly right now, with women shoes in his hand, a helmet on his head and his ideas mixed up because of the alcohol he had drank. After all, he hadn't had anything to eat all day long and the whisky had gone to his brain pretty fast…

He wasn't used to seeing her drunk. He didn't know how to handle the situation. And she was right, they had both been drinking. If he had been on his own, he wouldn't have hesitated and would have already gone home. But he was with her and he never took needless risks, when it concerned Gillian Foster.

She felt like her brain was about to turn over. Her stomach started acting up, too. She closed her eyes. When they were closed, everything seemed straighter. As soon as she opened them, everything started spinning again. She stared at Cal's shoes. Now that she wasn't in his arms no more, she was cold. She shivered when some image popped into her mind. The two of them… in a bed. She mentally hit herself and closed her eyes, grimacing. The more she tried to stop thinking about that, the more she thought about that.

The one thing she wanted was a cold shower. Real cold. And to vomit. Or a hug. Or all of those three things. Not necessarily in that order, of course. What did she want again? Oh yes. A cold shower, with Cal, a hug, from Cal, to vomit, on him. She shook her head. That was it, she was going insane.

She opened her eyes when she felt an arm around her hips and another behind her knees, lifting her up quickly.

"Hey!" she protested, not so convinced, "where are you taking me?", _to the seventh heaven_, she thought. A mental slap, this time.

He moved forward. "Ria took place on the couch from the reception, I'm taking you to my office. You need sleep".

She smiled. Why did he seem so perfect to her? She was supposed to still be angry at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and forced him to turn his head toward her. She pressed her elbows slightly into his shoulder and so he stopped, staring at her.

She held onto him firmly, her head buried in his neck and she used one hand to lift up her skirt to be able to change position. She held onto the back of his neck, passed her legs around his waist and he helped her out, lifting her skirt a little bit more and supporting her by her lower thighs. After reaching her goal, she decided it was about time.

She held up his scruff with one hand and brushed his hair with the other one. He sighed and she inhaled his air, tilting her head to the left, then to the right. She shut her eyes and touched his lips lightly with her own. Then crushed them against each other. Adding pressure to the back of his head and making the kiss more intense.

She moaned slowly, and felt his hands getting higher, going from her thighs to her bottom, holding her tighter and closer. When she heard her shoes falling on the ground, she parted her lips, giving him access and he introduced his tongue in her mouth. They were sharing the same taste of alcohol but awkwardly, this was spicier, but softer at the same time. Their tongues started dancing one against the other. She pulled apart lightly, nibbled at his bottom lip, and then threw her mouth against his again.

They were both breathing faster. He lifted her up a bit, passing a hand on her back, holding her more firmly by her thigh. She pressed her breasts against his torso, both of her hands now caressing his hair.

He moved forward, not without some difficulties, his lips still pasted against Gillian's. He arrived close to the couch and stopped when his shins hit it.

They pulled apart slowly; he took her upper lip between his teeth one more time nibbling at it gently. When he stopped, she rested her forehead against his, still caressing his hair. He ran his hand under her cardigan and drew some circles with his fingers against her back.

She stared at his lips, then his eyes. He looked at her mouth, which had a vivid color then caught her gaze. She rocked her hand back and forth, as if she was trying to get her hair back at normal. She caressed his face with her left hand and dropped a brief kiss against his lips before smiling.

It was a pleasant smile, a bright one; it wasn't too much nor not enough. He pressed his lips together, moistening them, trying to taste her on his lips. He kissed her neck then dropped her lovingly on the couch.

When he was about to straighten up, she pulled him against her and kissed him again. He rested a knee between her legs and the other one outside. He ran his hands up her body, lifted her up slightly to take of her cardigan. He let it fall on the ground, beside them and started caressing her arms, her belly and then he reached her breasts.

She quivered and ran her hands on down his back then to his ass squeezing it lightly, not giving him the choice but to rest his hips against hers. He felt Gillian's pelvis lifting up a bit and starting moving his. They started scraping together. Their movements were slow and soft. They were taking their time, to appreciate the instant.

She rolled him on his back getting on top of him. He let her do so, running his hand up her thigh and raising her up a bit. With his free hand, he brushed her hair.

They pulled apart, both breathless. She rested her head on his torso, trying to regain a normal rhythm of breathing. She let her hands travel up his arms, to biceps to end up on his shoulder. She caressed his face then her hands stopped slowly.

He rubbed her back and then took away the hair covering her face. Her breathing was now regular. He lifted up his head but didn't manage to see her whole face. But he could see that her lips were pressed against each other slightly forward making a beautiful little pout he found _bloody_ adorable.

"Gill?" he called, in a whisper. No answer. "Love?" he tried again. Still nothing.

She had fallen asleep…

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_TBC or THE END?_

_Review! :) Pretty please :*  
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	2. You Are A Fever

_My dear readers,_

_I'm sorry for this long __hiatus! I had some important changes in my life, yes, again. So between me moving, not having internet access… It was kinda complicated! And still is, actually. But anyway, I hope you're still interested in my story. So here we go with chapter 2 :)_

_Disclaimers: nothing's mine, just the storyline! Even if I wouldn't complain to have Kelli & Tim for myself :p_

_Enjoy :)_

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"_Gill" he called, in a whisper. No answer. "Love?" he tried again. Still nothing._

_She had fallen asleep…_

**You Are A Fever**

They stayed still, in each other's arms. She almost never moved but Cal started feeling some pain but he didn't want to wake her up and forced himself into sleep.

When a ray of sunlight started to break into the room and went directly to Gillian's eyes, she groaned and woke up slowly. She quickly raised her head, asking herself what she was still doing at the office… and to be more exact, in Cal's. Until she noticed where, exactly, she was. _Cal_. She was lying on top of him. She grimaced when her eyes met one more time with the sunlight. And it's when she started hearing pneumatic drills in her head that flashes from last night came to her mind in a real cliché.

She remembered drinking with Ria leaving sleeping in the hall and hide on the balcony, to inhale some fresh air. Then everything came back in a heartbeat. Cal, the music, their dance, their hugs, their kisses, the sofa… She closed and opened her eyes blankly. Their kisses. She dropped her hands in both sides of Cal to quickly lift herself up, just to make sure she still had all her clothes on. And Cal, too.

No, they hadn't gone further than kissing. She felt a hint of regret then grimaced once more, letting herself rest on her partner, again. She had her head tilted to the left so she could see his face.

He seemed tense; she thought it was because she was on top of him. But then she saw the helmet, he hadn't taken it off. So his neck was in an awkward position. He was about to have an awful stiff neck when he'd wake up. She then slipped softly her hands from his face to his neck, lightly lifting his scruff to be able to take off the helmet. She had wanted to drop it on the floor, silently, but it escaped off of her hands and hit the floor.

It didn't make much noises just enough to wake up Cal. She closed her eyes, winced and felt him moving beneath her. She quivered when he caressed her back, letting his hands under her shirt, going to her bra and playing with what he thought was the opening. She buried her nose in his neck and inhaled his sent while her hands went down to his waist.

His jeans weren't too tight; she could then easily run her hand under the fabric to rest them on his hips. She then pictured him in his underwear. A slinky boxer hugging perfectly all his curves at the right place, where she'd like to touch him. She wouldn't even slap herself mentally anymore; she was enjoying her imagination way too much.

With his nose, he tried actively to make her lift up her head. He started with her forehead. The situation was somewhat funny, and she stared giggling, giving up a bit but not too much, to Cal's quiet request. Then, he rubbed his nose against hers, smiling under the soft effect of the noise of her laugh kissing his ears.

"It's Eskimos who kiss like that", she said breaking short the calm which was reigning over the room. She had been whispering but everything was so quiet that it seemed like a cry.

He stopped, fixing her still closed eyelids, "and how do you want me to kiss you?" he asked.

It seemed to her that his voice was husky, but she wasn't quite sure. Despite the fact she was the one to be the voice expert, she would have needed to see his face to be sure.

"I think you don't need me to tell you how. You already showed me many times last night that you know perfectly how to do it."

He could see by her intonation that she was no longer drunk. At least, she was in full possession of her senses. And perfectly conscious.

He slowly dropped his lips above hers, taking care of appreciating their tenderness. He didn't really know what was happening. Since last night, they had crossed the famous line and he couldn't help but fear that she would regret it. He, on another hand, knew that he would never have any regrets… Unless they decided to not go any further and if it had some impact on their friendship, their relationship, the one they had found on solid bases since now nearly ten years ago.

He subtlety invited her to part her lips open so he could win further access to her mouth, he wanted to taste her, feel her hot tongue against his. He held her tighter against him, and tried subtly, or not, to change position and keep kissing her.

He suddenly rolled over and fell onto the floor, his thigh hitting Gillian's high heels and her on top of him. She started giggling again, then it became a laugh and finally she started laughing so hard losing control. Her head fell back but then she abruptly rested her forehead against his torso.

He was grimacing from the pain. He had instinctively surrounded Gillian with his arms when they fell as if he needed to protect her from something. His hands rested on each sides of his companion, friend, at this stage he didn't know exactly what they were for each other.

He wanted to massage his thigh but before he could even have the time to move, he felt a hand pulling over the shoes to then caress his thigh softly. Those caresses, he had lost counts of how many times he had wished she touched him like that, all the times they had hugged each other and he had the chance to have a little glimpse of her softness.

With his right hand, he decided to stroke her hair, the pain softly going away. He lifted his head lightly do drop a kiss on the top of Gillian's head. He wanted that moment to last. Last forever. He often found himself in the arms of charming, brilliant and attractive women, but none of them were good enough to compare to Gillian.

Probably because in that particular case, it wasn't just some physical attraction, but also that tenderness they shared for one another, that love they had a hard time to define…

Gillian's hand stopped, taking him out of his thoughts. He was already missing the gesture. He looked at his watch; 5:27am.

"Gillian?" he inaudibly said her name, he almost didn't even hear it. He tried again, louder, "Gill?". Still nothing.

It felt like a déjà vu. He softly shook her shoulder, trying to take her out of that half-sleepy state. She moaned. A moan of complain. He shook again, a little harder.

"Gill, wake up, I'm taking you home", he told her softly, straightening her up the best he could.

When she founded herself in a seating position, butt on the floor, between the sofa and Cal, she dropped her legs on him.

"What did we do?" she asked after a couple of seconds of silence.

Cal lifted an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued by her question.

"You mean, did we… did we have sex?"

"No, silly. I know we didn't do anything. What I mean is…", she stopped, lifted her head up to fix him, "we should never have kissed".

He suddenly started to laugh nervously, lifting his head from the ground and crossing her look, "you kissed me and you're saying that now?".

She hit his thigh, "I didn't rape your mouth, you were consenting and participated as much as I did!".

He straightened himself up completely, raising Gillian's leg but just the time he needed to sit down, and then he dropped them back on top of his thighs.

"I'm not disagreeing, love, I'm just saying you're the one who started… if you know what I mean", he screwed up his eyes, a smirk playing on his face. His oh-so-famous smirk.

"Well, I shouldn't have. We can't do this, I mean, it would be too complicated and we can't…" her voice wasn't convincing, not even a bit, not for him, and even less for her.

He slowly ran his hand up her thigh, tilting his head to the side. He studied her face. Even if she wasn't easy to red, he could easily say her mind was working at a thousand miles per hour, trying to rationalize, asking herself question that without a doubt, he was asking himself too. She frowned lightly, as she was upset, disturbed. He didn't like seeing her like that.

"Get your things and meet me in the parking lot, I'll give you a ride home."

She didn't have time to answer that his hand had already break the contact with her thigh; he was already up looking for his own stuffs. So she did not argue, even if she shivered already, without the warm of his body against hers.

She abruptly sprawled on the floor to try and find her cardigan, and then straightened up, taking her shoes in hands. When she was finally on her feet, she closed her eyes, grimacing. What a fucked up idea to drink so much! She did her best to reach her office without falling. Her purse was on her chair.

She closed her eyes again and thought about Cal. It was not the first time they kissed; she already knew how much of a good kisser he was. But they had never allowed themselves to kiss with so much passion and ardor. She wanted to rip his clothes off and make love to him. On the balcony. But on the sofa, too. And now she still wanted to.

Why did she have to start with all that "I regret this, we have to forget it happened" stupid speech? It was such of a cliché and she didn't believe a word of it. As if her mouth had spoken the opposite message to that which was in her heart.

But everything wasn't perfect in her mind. She had many doubts, mostly about how it would affect their relationship, their work, their life. Then she also didn't want to be just "another one" on Cal Lightman's list. Even if, deep down in her heart, she knew he had way too much respect and esteem for her to treat her like any other one of his conquest. Or at least, she liked to think like it.

She heard a door being closed and decided to hurry up. She took her purse and pulled her cardigan between the grips. She thought about putting her shoes back on to go to the parking lot but it seemed like a bad idea. That's when she saw a Starbucks bag on her desk from the milkshake and brownies she had bought the morning before. It was perfect, she didn't want to carry her shoes in her hands anyways.

She went out, closing everything behind her to join him in the parking lot. Cal was waiting for her; the door from the passenger side was opened for her. A real gentleman. When she reached the car, she bend over inside to put her things on the dashboard and finally, she sat down.

"You came here barefoot?" Cal asked, laughing lightly.

She shook her head, smiling, "I was afraid to lose balance. I haven't fully sobered-up yet, you know".

He acquiesced and started the engine to go home. On the road, neither of them talked. He wanted to turn on the radio to break the awkward silence but he wasn't sure that Gillian's head would approve of the noise without hurting her.

When he stopped at a red light, he turned his head to look at her only to see that she had fallen asleep. He didn't think twice and decided to take her to his place. It was closer, faster; he wouldn't have to wake her and could keep an eye on her, in case that she had an awful hangover at wakening. And deep inside, he knew that it was also because he wanted to keep her close to him, for a couple hours before they went back to normal.

The car stopped and the garage door closed almost at the same time. Gillian stretched a bit but didn't wake up. Cal took the opportunity to get out of the car and switch on the light to prevent them of falling on a foreigner object resting on the floor.

When he turned around, a Gillian practically sleepwalking got out of the car. Her eyes were still closed and her head tilted to the left. Cal found her totally irresistible. Adorable. He got close to her, taking the bags from her hand and encircling her waist with his free arm to help her walking.

She rested her head on his shoulder, "why did you bring me to your place?".

"I thought you wouldn't wake up and so it was closer to bring you here" he answered simply, opening his office's door, then taking her to the stairs. He took off his shoes to go upstairs.

"And where am I going to sleep, huh?" she went out of his embrace, finally opening her eyes and staring at him. When she yawned, he took her hand forcing her close to him so she would climb the stairs.

"You're gonna sleep in my bed", she stopped abruptly so he went on, "and I'll be on the couch, don't worry, love".

_Love_, she thought, whiffing. He knew she was about to complain so before she could say a word he shushed her, "and don't try to argue, you know how stubborn I am".

He took her to his bedroom, letting her hand go to drop her things on a little couch in a corner of the room. Then he lifted the blanket, silently inviting her to get into bed.

He was taken by surprise when she started undressing, taking off her pants. She saw the surprise all over his face, but also desire, "what?" she said, in a light tone before falling on the mattress.

Cal covered her with the blanket, then sat by her side and dropped a light kiss on her forehead. They stared at each other for a while. The eyes of one travelling to the lips of the other one until he decided to stand up.

It's when he turned around that she took his sleeve, holding him back softly. He turned to her again, with an intrigued look, but also showing what could be interpreted as hope.

She stood up until finding herself in a sitting position, her back resting on the bed base and the blanket showing the top of her thighs. And Cal didn't miss it.

Her lips parted to say something but then she kept quiet. They stayed that way, looking at each other in an almost disturbing silence.

She looked down suddenly and let go off his hand. He waited for a minute then decided it was better for both of them if he just went downstairs. When she looked up and read deception all over his face, she went forward and put her arm around his waist, in a strange and uncomfortable position.

"Mmmh.. stay?" her voice was almost a whisper but Cal heard it perfectly. His eyes started shinning thanks to that little word.

He got closer and sat down on the bed. His thoughts were messed up and he didn't really know what was happening anymore and he was already thinking of an all new signification of the word "stay"… A signification she approved taking off his black shirt.

She carefully ran her arms underneath his, resting her hands on his shoulders bringing him against her and whispered in his ear, "I think I'm gonna need you…", she softly nibbled at his jaw, "to take off mine…".

He turned his head, dropping his lips against hers with ardor.

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_Voilà, voilà!_

_I hope you all liked it… Review, review! :)_

_& tell me if you want next chap to be smutty… or not ;) it depends on you, really :)_


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